Month: September 2003

MONDAY, 22 SEPTEMBER 2003

I feel as if I’m reaching the end of what I can call in retrospect, my “book”. I did not ask all the questions (who can?), and I do not have all the answers (who does?). What I do know, or sincerely believe, is what life outside my apartment windows is about.

What’s it all about then, according to me?

At the most basic level, it’s a struggle for survival. From the miserable homeless guy in the back alley digging through garbage bags, to Bill and Melinda Gates, the Pope, the Dalai Lama, the President of the United States, back to the baby who was born a minute ago in the slums of Kolkata, everybody is always, from the moment of birth until the moment of physical death, locked in a struggle for survival. This struggle is waged on several levels, and for a limited number of needs that must be met.

One of these needs has increasingly aroused my interest over the past few years. The more I look at my own life, and observe the world outside my front door, the more the importance of the need, the longing, to belong somewhere is confirmed – to know how your life is linked to other forms of life (and even inanimate objects), in terms of the past, present, and future. This includes understanding how you fit in between other species on this planet, and how you fit in between the screaming masses of people, and between conflicting religious traditions and diverse histories of humanity.

All mammals – to take the group of animals under which humans are categorised – instinctively know where they belong. That is, all mammals whose natural life and habitats have not been disturbed or altered to such an extent that they, too, suffer from the same affliction as so many people in the modern world.

To be confused about your place in the world – to not know where you belong – is usually the result of a variety of causes. One of these is alienation from the environment where at one stage of your life you knew in what ways and to what extent you belonged. This disposition is in turn caused by, amongst other things, disillusionment with what previously defined your identity and determined your place in the larger world. An example of the latter is the alienation that takes place between an individual and the religious community of which he or she had previously been a devoted member – alienation brought on by personal experiences and/or intellectual exposure that sometimes erode the credibility of truths handed down from previous generations.

When this happens, when you are confronted with the reality that you do not know anymore how and where you fit into the Larger Landscape, you will find it difficult to commit to anything other than what provides you with immediate comfort in the face of a world that you will find increasingly hostile.

Identity – to know your own name, your nationality, personality, preferences, talents, interests, fears, strengths and weaknesses, and your ambitions and dreams – makes it easier to at least have a fair idea where you stand with others, and thus to enter into relationships. It is through these relationships that you eventually obtain membership to groups and communities; a factor that will play a significant role in reducing your vulnerability as a single individual. Membership to groups and communities will lessen your anxieties, which will improve your confidence, which will increase the likelihood that your physical and emotional needs will be met. If these communities include a religious community, you may even find it easier to explain to yourself and to others how you believe you are part of a reality that stretches beyond this time and place.

The above description is the ideal of positive and constructive relationships. Negative and destructive relationships also satisfy the need to belong somewhere, but in a way that does not reduce fear and anxiety. Such relationships also sometimes prevent more positive and constructive social interaction. However, even “bad” relationships emphasize the importance of the need to be part of something bigger than just a single individual.

To actively participate in groups and communities, you need to know some basic things about yourself and when necessary to confirm these things (your name, your personality, interests, talents, beliefs, and other things that have already been mentioned). You also need basic knowledge and understanding of the world in which you find yourself on a daily basis.

If your intellectual development exceeds the boundaries of a handed-down understanding of “how things work” (in the community in which you find yourself), or if this understanding loses credibility as a result of certain personal experiences, or after exposure to an alternative philosophical frame of reference or comprehensive view of existence, you will inevitably ask certain questions. Principles will also need to be identified (or redefined) to facilitate your understanding of human existence. These principles and the corresponding understanding of things will be highly conducive to the process of identity formation (or then, the redefining of identity). This process will enable you to know, or discover anew, how, where and with whom you should cultivate relationships.

Ultimately, the hope will be to have a better understanding of how you form part of all that is, was, and may still be, and to continue with your existence, but as someone who does not feel alienated on a daily basis from everything and everyone around you.

______________________

[At the beginning of September 2003 I was informed by my landlady that she wanted to sell the apartment I had been renting from her for almost five years, and that I had to be out of the place by the end of the month. This essay was written after a few weeks of packing and preparing the new place for habitation.]

THURSDAY, 25 SEPTEMBER 2003

It was an exceptional experience at the end, this business of moving to another place. It cast an interesting and illuminating light on things I had been contemplating before I got the call to pack up and move. I refer of course – no surprises here – to the issues of identity and belonging. The difference is the experiences of this month have been concrete, with the academic value a boring sideshow.

I was confronted this month with the very real fact that I no longer belong – for the time being, and relative to a particular environment.

As I wandered through my apartment during the past few days, I couldn’t ignore the fact that I no longer belong in a place that has become synonymous with the daily reality that I belong, for now, on this island. This structure, these dilapidated walls, the four windows that never allowed enough fresh air in my life, the front door that scrapes against the dull, unpolished marble floor, the front porch with old cigarette butts and unopened mail in one corner, the familiar path between the front door, my “office”, the living room, the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, and back to the front door, was where I belonged for the past nearly five years. I did not belong at the neighbours’ house. I did not belong at the 7-Eleven, or in any other place in this city, this country, or in this world more than I belonged in this stuffy, dimly lit apartment. (Perhaps I exaggerate the “dark apartment” thing a bit for the sake of dramatic effect. Natural sunlight did sometimes penetrate the interior. I also had several electric lights, which did make the well-trodden path visible. And did I not experience many moments of intellectual enlightenment in this place?)

The fact remains I don’t belong here anymore. And it has nothing to do with identity, religion, or a vague understanding of the universe. (Or does it?)

Needless to say, an unpleasant sensation has gotten hold of my throat because of this suspended sense of belonging. And I suppose that’s where understanding makes a difference. If someone rushes at you and complains of an unpleasant sensation in the part of his anatomy where you know his stomach is located, it will be a pleasure for you to explain to this fool that he only needs to stuff his mouth with deep-fried calamari: Hunger is the problem, food is the answer. (Unless of course you’re wrong, and he’s actually complaining about a knife wound in his lower abdomen.)

In the case of my own unpleasant sensation, I could reassure myself with the explanation that I’m only experiencing a reduced sense of my place in the world, and that it is a normal reaction to a temporary situation. I could go further and say that I already have another place; that my sense of where I belong, will be restored promptly.

Still, there was no way I could allow such a rare, concrete manifestation of uncertainty to get away without milking it to the last drop of anxiety …

MYSELF: “If you say another place you obviously refer to the apartment in Benevolent Light New Village, right?”

ME: “Yes. You’ll move all your stuff there tomorrow, and next week you will feel completely at home.”

MYSELF: “Why?”

ME: “Because all your stuff will be there! And you’ll have your own front door again, and more windows than you can count!”

MYSELF: “There are sixteen windows. I counted them.”

ME: “Well, there you have it! Your sense of where you belong shall be restored before you can say existential angst. You’ll even have a view of the neighbour’s kitchen.”

MYSELF: “It’s not my apartment. It belongs to someone who’s doing my employer a favour by renting the apartment to me.”

ME: “Yes, I know. But it will be yours for all practical purposes, at least for a few months.”

MYSELF: “But I don’t belong there. Not like you belong on your own patch of land, where you can sleep between the cabbages if you like.”

ME: “It’s true … But do we ever belong anywhere for an indefinite period of our existence? Or are we strangers most of the time, running from one place to another – belonging here, not belonging there? And at the end of the day we rush ‘home’ because that’s where we think we belong – amongst our own people? What happens if that doesn’t work out? What happens if the relationships at ‘home’ are dysfunctional to such an extent that we feel we don’t belong there either? Do we keep roaming like the animals we are? Do we just keep fighting for our daily survival, for our right to a dignified life? Do we keep sniffing around in a desperate attempt to pick up a vaguely familiar scent? We are defenceless animals, for crying out loud! What more do you want?”

MYSELF: “Maybe I just wanted to hear that. Maybe I just wanted to hear it doesn’t always work out. That one should be grateful when things do work out, and when you indeed feel as if you belong somewhere. Because you know nothing lasts forever, and if you can just enjoy the good things of life for one day, and then another … it’s better than to never have had it at all. Love doesn’t last forever. Neither does life. At some time or another in your life, you will inevitably experience loss, and a reduced sense of your place in the world. How you handle it when it comes your way … this, this is what gives you a sense of security.”

ME: “Make the most of what you have while you have it?”

MYSELF: “Yes. I guess that’s what it comes down to. To hold collar against the wind. To fight for survival, and if you survive, to continue fighting for the best you can get. And when things work out for you, to share the good you have with other people. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

ME: “And never forget life is fragile? That death in the end conquers all? That all of us will eventually return to dust?”

MYSELF: “Well … if you view human beings merely as a collection of meat and bone sniffing around for a place to lay down its head at the end of the day, I guess you can remind yourself of all of that.”

ME: “And … you should also try to find a mate with whom you can make a contribution to the survival of this wretched species, or what?”

MYSELF: “Hmm … aren’t there a few boxes left we can shuffle around?”

And so another few drops fall in the pail …

______________________

THURSDAY, 25 SEPTEMBER 2003

When a person’s perception of where he belongs is disturbed, the subconscious activates a process to neutralise the disturbance. This process would include certain actions being undertaken to confirm the person’s identity, and with that his sense of where he belongs.

My situation the last few weeks serves as a fine example. I was suddenly forced to take my things and go after having lived in an apartment for almost five years. This experience – which included packing all my belongings into boxes, stripping the walls of images and other paraphernalia of my existence, and me living between the boxes and the bare walls for about a week – slightly disturbed my sense of my place in the world. Without consciously thinking about taking steps to alleviate this disturbance, I started writing with unprecedented urgency every time I took a break from the packing. In doing so, I actively confirmed the part of my identity that I regard as fundamental to my existence. (Important to note that I expect a return to normal output the moment my sense of where I belong is restored.)

This might imply that a more ideal existence – which, for the sake of argument, can be defined as a situation where most of my needs are met on a fairly regular basis – would not be conducive to maintaining an above-average pace in my writing. This could of course also be applied to other people and the creative work they do, although it would depend on the type of creative work they keep themselves busy with.

The question may be asked what is more important: regular satisfaction of all your needs – and the happy result of a more ideal existence, or a certain pace in the production of creative works? One might even wonder what difference regular satisfaction of all your needs will have on the quality and inspiration of your creative work.

How important is it in the end to be creative? And if it comes down to it, is it more important than being “happy”?

______________________

MONDAY, 22 SEPTEMBER 2003

Many people want to be rich for the comfort and security it provides. Many people also want to be rich because they think it will make them feel important, and appear more important to others.

Financial wealth is also conducive to the average person, whose life is anchored in the ever-changing cultural quagmire of the socio-economic middle class, being more confident of his or her identity. Money enables a person to acquire the badges the individual needs in order to appear to the world in a certain way. In this way, the individual can tell other people: “This is who I (think I) am, who I want to be, and how I would like to be seen. Here is the visible evidence.”

Wealth is thus seen (perhaps unknowingly) as an easy way to define identity, and continually confirm it – especially by people who do not have a lot of money, and who spend a significant amount of time in environments where money plays a prominent role in the development and display of identity.

… and an academic note

The above is what can be called an “answer” in the way I described a few pieces back. In this case, the initial questions would be: Why do so many people want to be rich? Is it just about the security of knowing you will have enough to eat today, and tomorrow, and possibly even next month? Or are we also driven by other instincts or motivations?

Most of my so-called answers are nothing more than personal theories. My method is also not terribly scientific. For example, I’ll think: “It appears to me that [Person X] is still not convinced of her own identity.”

Then, in the specified case, I’ll continue dusting or wiping away stains on the floor until the next thought enters my mind: “Strange, she’s always been overly attracted to money.”

Then, as I’m standing there with a cleaning cloth and a bottle of lighter fluid in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, the moment of insight strikes: “Is the one thing possibly connected to the other?”

With the latter, I’ll have formulated a QUESTION. Upon identifying the most reasonable and likely ANSWER, I can formulate a THEORY.

Then I will sit down at the dressing table, open my notebook and write something like: “Many people want to be rich for the comfort and security it provides. Many people also want to be rich because they think it will make them feel important …”

______________________